


Happy TPK Memories

by Apostat3



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Demons, Devils, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Fantasy, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 03:45:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18908878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apostat3/pseuds/Apostat3
Summary: My DnD party asked me to write a piece about a bunch of fiends chatting happily about how horribly they killed the players so here y'are. It's not gory or nothing, it's more that it exposes their character flaws.





	Happy TPK Memories

A wind like a dragon’s breath blew across the expansive fields of Hell, causing the ever-burning flames to flicker and dance, casting strange, shifting shadows across the barren red landscape. Deep into the depths of the seemingly endless desert of crimson sands, a long, lone table stood. The sharp black shape stood out against its environment, and the jovial cheers and manic laughter of those around it contrasted sharply with their barren, dead surrounding. Scattered about the table was a smattering of fiends, of all shapes and sizes, who feasted merrily on every meat imaginable, and even some which were not even that. As fangs tore out chunks of meat haphazardly, blood and gore sprayed from them and coated the revellers, but it seemed to bother them little, if not encourage them. Near the head of the table, a large, hulking figure roared.

“And… and then,” it cried, between fits of laughter and bites of food. “The little horned imposter shot its pathetic magic at my head! Hah! Needless to say, the piss poor attempt at sorcery bounced off, and I sent my whip cracking!” To further demonstrate its point, the beast drew up its weapon and swung down hard, shattering a plate. “Little shit went down like a sack of skulls.” The crowd around the Balor let out cheers of approval, and one or two even clapped. 

“Bah, who cares!” Challenged a skeletal knight opposite the fiend. “We’ve all killed mortals before, it's hardly special.”

“Oh, the creature isn't dead.” The beast leaned in, looking as close to sly as it could. “I’ve got the poor thing in the dungeons. It gave some stupid speech about welcoming death, so I said 'hah!’, that's what I said. I think I'll keep it alive for a few centuries. You can have an awful lot of fun with the horned one’s tolerance for fire.” The crowd gave knowing sniggers, and the skeleton backed down, defeated. 

“Pah,” came the new, far smoother voice of a succubus. “Your brute strength impressed nobody with its lack of finesse, worm, and your pathetic excuse for torture lacks any sort of style. I prefer to break minds, you see. It's even so much fun; far more so than breaking bodies.”

“Is that so? Then do tell, deceiver, what have you done recently that is so impressive?” The beast hulked over the lean frame of the succubus, but the smaller fiend retained its confident demeanour. 

“I opted to take the pretty one myself. All that big, shiny metal, but it couldn't protect the poor fool from what was inside itself. Just a single look at this,” the creature gestured down its body. “And it was utterly enraptured. Yet all it took was my claws on its face - a few bloody scars across its precious, pretty face - to enrage it. Such a weak little creature didn't have the strength to overpower me, of course. Now I keep it and its disgusting new face in the dungeons. Sometimes I like to use my magic to have it dance. I'm sure, friends, you'll agree that's far more delicious that tasteless torture.” The crowd around, who had up until now been listening intently, broke out in squabbles, arguing either side of the debate. The Balor brought up its whip once more. 

“Is that right, enchantress?” The creature growled. “Well, I-”

“Enough,” came a deep, gravelly voice from the head of the table and immediately all fell silent. “Your attempts to impress are amusing, but you are both pathetic.” When the creature spoke, it demanded respect, for the other fiends all knew what it was. A Lich but, indeed, no ordinary Lich. An Archlich, a most powerful sorcerer, and source of pure, unadulterated evil. “If you truly wish to break a mortal, you need simply follow my example.” The creature straightened out in its throne, its withered grip adjusting around its staff. 

“Just recently I found one of those - what do you call…? - Horizon Walkers skulking around my domain. I had the fool seized and brought before me. I bound it with magic, then peeled its flesh from its body, strip by strip, all while leaving the welp alive. When all that was left was a skeleton, I took its heart and consumed it before the pathetic creature, before binding its soul here and putting it to work for my whims.” There was a resounding quiet for a few moments, as all the creatures waited for the Lich to continue. When it did not, the Balor burst out laughing, and the rest of its companions soon followed. The Lich’s withered face twisted into a cruel smile. “So drink up, friends. To pain.” It raised its chalice, and the other fiends followed suit

“To pain!” They cried in unison, they returned to their feasting, fighting and occasional fornicating.


End file.
